


Adult Super Vision

by procrastinationfairy



Category: DCU (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Minor Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:48:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28967097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/procrastinationfairy/pseuds/procrastinationfairy
Summary: Jon takes the note home, but he doesn’t give it to Mom or Dad. Mom’s still at work, and Dad is off-world on a mission, which is his excuse. But the thing is, he really, really doesn’t want to tell them. If he has to wear real glasses, he can’t take them off as Superboy. If he wears real glasses as Superboy, everyone will recognize him. If everyone could recognize him, he can’t be Superboy. So obviously, he can’t get glasses.Chris sighs. “Okay, okay. Look, we’ll call Kon, and whatever he says to do, we’ll do. Is that fair?”“Sure!” Jon agrees. Kon is so much older than them. He’s in college. He’s an adult. He’ll know exactly what to do.//or jon needs glasses
Relationships: Chris Kent & Jonathan Samuel Kent, Chris Kent & Jonathan Samuel Kent & Kon-El | Conner Kent, Chris Kent & Kon-El | Conner Kent, Jonathan Samuel Kent & Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 8
Kudos: 90





	Adult Super Vision

**Author's Note:**

> This is… kind of in the same universe as Kon-El and the Great Kazoo Caper. Mostly because it’s more humorous nonsense, though this is even more nonsensical. Take it even less seriously. I swear, I actually usually write serious stuff. I just love superhero shenanigans. Anyway, keep the Kents on the Hamilton farm 2k21. Bring back Chris Kent 2k21. (Don't get me started on Rebirth's Lor-Zod.) As for an actual, serious explanation of Jon’s issue, he has astigmatism, which is why his super vision still works but is blurry. Don’t worry if it doesn’t make sense. I know nothing about optometry other than contact in eye make vision go. 
> 
> I'm on tumblr at spideylovesgwendy! If you pester me hard enough, I may put down my books and do some writing.

In Jon’s defense, Mr. Hallinger’s eights look a lot like his zeroes.

“Why are all of your answers zero?” his teacher asks when he pulls him aside while the rest of the class goes to lunch. He waves Jon's paper in front of his face, and Jon narrows his eyes at his answers. 2 x 0. 9 x 0. 4 x 0.

“Because… zero times anything is zero?” Jon answers. He’s still tired from a late patrol with Damian, and that didn’t even count the lecture he’d gotten about not being careful enough with his freeze breath. Jon hadn’t really _meant_ to hit Damian’s butt, but he shouldn’t have been standing in the way! So he doubled down and insisted it was punishment for Damian stealing the last water bottle, _not_ Jon’s aim being a little off.

And even _that_ wasn’t Jon’s fault. When he gets tired, everything seems a little blurry. Even when he uses his super vision to focus on stuff that’s far away.

Mr. Hallinger looks back at the board, where he’d written out their work, and frowns. “Jon, do something for me. Stand right here.” He maneuvers him into place with hands on Jon’s shoulders and points at a poster across the room. “What does that say?”

Ugh. Jon hates reading from so far away. He squints until his lashes blur together just enough to bring the poster into focus. “If you… believe… you can… ach— achieve?” he guesses. The fuzzy little mouse’s face looks smug from here. It kind of reminds him of Damian.

“A-cheese,” Mr. Hallinger corrects. “Jon, I want to send a note home to your parents. I think it’s time you get your glasses prescription updated.”

Glasses? Jon doesn’t need—

His frames slide down his nose, the fake lenses dirty because he never really bothered to clean them. 

Oh.

Oh no.

* * *

Jon takes the note home, but he doesn’t give it to Mom or Dad. Mom’s still at work in Metropolis, and Dad is off-world on a mission, which is his excuse. But the thing is, he really, _really_ doesn’t want to tell them. If he has to wear real glasses, he can’t take them off as Superboy. If he wears real glasses as Superboy, everyone will recognize him. If everyone could recognize him, he can’t be Superboy. So obviously, he can’t get glasses.

“I think there’s another solution to your problem,” Chris says. “Are you supposed to be eating that?”

Jon curls his lips around the spoon and licks off the remaining chocolate sauce. They’re out of ice cream, so he’d poured the sauce into a bowl by itself. No one ever told him _not_ to. “It’s fine.”

“I’m telling Mom,” Chris says.

“No!” Jon cries. “Chris, please. I don’t want to get glasses.”

“What? No, about the—” Chris pauses and looks at Jon’s empty bowl. He makes a face far too much like Mom’s annoyed-but-giving-up face and rolls his eyes. “Actually, she should know about the glasses. Mom and Dad can figure this out.”

Jon turns on the puppy dog eyes. It doesn’t normally work on Chris, who is only four years older than him, but he shoots his shot anyway. He’s putting out all the stops on this matter.

Chris half-relents. “Okay, okay. Look, we’ll call _Kon,_ and whatever he says to do, we’ll do. Is that fair?”

“Sure!” Jon agrees. Kon is so much older than them. He’s in college. He’s an adult. He’ll know exactly what to do.

* * *

“Laser eye surgery,” Kon says when he lands on the front porch of the Hamilton farm. “That’s all the rage, right? No one wants to wear glasses or contacts anymore, so they cut off a little bit of your eye, and boom, presto, you can see!”

“Ew.” Chris wrinkles his nose.

“Cool!” Jon grins.

Chris clears his throat. “Okay, but guys, how are we supposed to do laser eye surgery? Lasers can’t exactly pierce Kryptonian eyeballs.”

Jon deflates. Oh no. There goes that plan. He was so excited too. If he had the surgery, he could keep wearing his fake glasses, and no one would ever know. He’d still get to be Superboy, and he could whip Damian in the butt the next time they lost track of time fighting. But without the surgery…

“Easy-peasy,” Kon scoffs. He flips a curl off of his forehead and waves a hand in the air. Jon is hit with another wave of brotherly admiration. Kon is _so cool._ No one else could get away with wearing a leather jacket like that in Hamilton. “We have heat vision. Basically a laser. We already do this for shaving, so it’s totally fine.”

“Oh no,” Chris says. His eyes are wide, and he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jean jacket. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“You said we’d do whatever Kon said,” Jon points out.

Chris shoots him an incredulous look. “I didn’t think whatever he said would be stupid!”

“It’s not stupid!” Kon and Jon shout at the same time. Kon huffs and crosses his arms.

“Look, kid,” he says, throwing on his best mentor grin, “I can handle this. I’ll take the tiniest bit off of one eye, and Jon will be able to see again. And if he isn’t…”

“If he isn’t, we call Mom, and we’re all dead,” Chris says, defeated.

“Sure, but Lois can’t punish me. I’m an adult,” Kon says with a shrug.

Jon doesn’t believe that, but he’s sure it’s going to work out anyway. Their plan is simple: To make sure Jon can’t move, Chris holds him into place. Meanwhile, Kon will lean over them, along with a mirror for concentration, and snip off the tiniest bit of Jon’s eyeball. All Jon has to do is lay back and keep his eyes open and still. 

“What if he moves and you take out his whole eye?” Chris asks as they move into position. He places one hand on Jon’s chest, the other on his forehead, pushing him down onto the couch. Jon is almost comfortable, which is probably good in this situation. The more relaxed he is, the less likely he’ll be to flinch.

“If he loses an eye, he gets an eyepatch,” Kon shrugs. He stares at Jon’s eye with super vision, gauging how bad he can see, probably. 

Jon grins. “Cool!” he says, trying to sit up.

“Stop!” Chris huffs, pushing him back down.

“Oof!” Jon grunts. “I’m telling Mom!”

“You’re telling Mom I hurt you while you got eye surgery in the living room?” Chris asks.

Jon opens his mouth and shuts it. He flops back and folds his hands over his stomach, staring up at the popcorn ceiling.

“Okay, chill, kiddos. We’re ready,” Kon says. He leans forward, the edges of his irises burning red.

“Wait!” Chris says. “How… How do you know how much to cut off? Because we don’t even know how bad Jon’s vision _is_.”

Kon falters. “Uh… How bad is your vision, Jon?”

“I can see you’re ugly,” he replies without hesitation.

Chris snorts.

“That’s not an answer!” Kon huffs. 

Midway through his sentence, the front door swings open. “Boys, I’m home!” Mom calls. “Your dad won’t be home to cook tonight, so I picked up some pizza in the city. All we have to do is heat it uh— What are you doing?”

The Kent boys stare. Mom narrows her eyes.

“Run,” Jon whispers to his brothers. But there’s no escape from the Mom look. Jon just hopes they still get pizza.

* * *

“You should have come to me first,” Damian huffs while Mom and Mr. Wayne talk about Jon’s options. “I know plenty about medicine. I could have done the surgery far better than your brothers.”

“My brothers didn't do the surgery. Mom caught us,” Jon sighed. 

“And it's a good thing I did too!” Mom shouts from across the room. “What on earth convinced you boys that doing a surgery, _at home_ _,_ in an unsanitized environment, when none of you know anything about optometry, much less _surgery._ Conner Alexander Kent, don't make that face. You're a grown man. You should know better than—”

“In my defense, Lois, I'm dumb,” Kon defends, slumped down on the floor next to Red Heron's desk in the Batcave. Tim is seated in the chair next to him, and he pats his boyfriend's head consolingly. 

“That's not a defense,” Mom growls. 

Mr. Wayne places a hand on her shoulder. “Superboy,” he says calmly, “we can do two things. You can allow us to do LASIK in our medical bay, with someone certified. This will be a mostly permanent solution, but there is a chance of complications or future deterioration of your vision. You may need more surgeries in the future. And LASIK isn't typically done on children—”

“Which is why I'm against this,” Mom interrupts. 

“ _Or_ ,” Mr. Wayne continues seamlessly, “we can develop contact lenses for you to wear. This will fix your vision, and you can continue wearing glasses as Jon Kent. No one will ever know the difference.”

“Huh," Jon says. "Is my vision going to get worse?”

“Probably,” Tim says. “I've worn contacts for years. You can always get surgery later.”

Jon likes that solution. It's a shame he can't show off his contacts to all of his friends at school, but he takes pleasure in making Damian squirm when he pulls a lens off at night. Who would have thought that eyes were the one thing to gross out the son of the Bat?


End file.
